Fiat Lux
by blind4seer
Summary: A story of life after New Krypton. [Post Superman Returns]
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own or claim any false ownership to the _Superman_ series. The creative rights belong, of course to the brilliant Joe Shuster and Jerry Siegel, and the copyright belongs to DC comics. I am merely an obsessed, fanatic, psychotic nut who likes to write and dream.

Authors' Note: Hallo! So, I'm back! After a very, very long vacation from writing fanfiction, here I am again with a new story about Superman. Ah, the sweet bliss of childhood memories. Erhm… as a side note, I didn't finish my last story (though it has made some incredible progress in my head). I promise to any "Aeternitas" readers out there, I will finish it someday. Just not today.

Anywho, the story for this fanfic came to me literally when I was in the shower and the idea just grew on me… kind of like algae in a fishbowl. I couldn't wait to get it on paper and here it is. It has changed greatly from my original idea, but (hopefully) is still good.

As a fair warning to all of the people reading my work for the first time, I am an _Extremely_. Slow. Writer. I do not have the "Gift of Gab" verbally or literally. My words always get stuck and trapped in traffic jams of ideas and, yes, sometimes writing is like pushing molasses up a sandy hill. Also, my writing is inconsistent. I'm sure all beginning authors have this problem. I make many spelling mistakes, grammar is the bane of my existence, and my brain zooms faster than the poor pen across my paper. If you can extend me your patience and forgiveness me for these nasty failings, you have my thanks.

As always, I appreciate your comments and take them to heart in my writing. Please be constructive critics because I'd love to learn from all of you. Enjoy!

Fiat Lux 

Chapter 1: Silent Voices 

The past days had passed in a dizzying blur. Since the night Superman escaped the hospital to visit Jason at her home, Lois could scarcely keep up with the flood of events. The headlines had spoken it all – "_Superman Missing!_" then "_Luthor Found!_" and finally "_Damage Costs Reach 2 Billion._" The first two headlines had completely sold out from newsstands across Metropolis in the first 3 hours off the press. Anxious to keep up with the news cycle, Perry White had begun dogging every reporter under him for everything scrap of information they could come up with about the disaster.

Everyone, that is, except Lois.

Despite the frenzy, Perry had stubbornly refused to give her the only assignment she wanted to dig into. She wanted to report the events beginning with the initial blackout leading up to the cancerous growth of the crystal continent in the waters off of Metropolis. The idea was her brain child – the exact same suggestion she had had in the very beginning – and Perry had given the assignment to Clark. Of all people, he could have given it to, it had to be Clark Farmer-boy Kent; the only reporter on staff who she'd feel guilty about secretly stealing the assignment from. She didn't forget to inform Perry about her opinion either.

"Chief, you've got to give me back my story – about the blackouts?" she added quickly at his flustered look. She had barged into this office without warning, the first thing in the morning. "I was the first to suggest that the outages needed to be looked into, and I want the chance to finish my research."

"Knock before you enter next time, Lois - it's too early in the day for a heart attack," Perry said, then more sternly, "And as I recall I gave the assignment to Clark. You weren't even supposed to be looking into the blackouts in the first place."

"Yeah, wonderful decision, Chief!" Lois couldn't stop the words from slipping from her mouth, "With two other assignments, I managed to track down the source of the quake and blackout even before Clark pulled out a pen. Please, I'm the girl for the job, give me the assignment back."

"No. It was never yours in the first place." Perry said in a voice which brooked no argument.

"But I was my idea!"

"The story belongs to Clark. I've already given you an assignment," at Lois' disbelieving glare, he added, "The voices of Metropolis need to be heard, Lois. Believe it or not, since the last major headline, no one has bothered to ask the public about their opinion about what has just happened."

"And you couldn't wait to give this public opinion poll to a tenure reporter who has not only been in the news business for more than a decade, but has been acknowledged by _dozens_ of prestigious organizations. Oh, if only the judges at the Pulitzer could see me now."

Silence followed in the wake of Lois' words and she immediately realizing what had just been said, she wished that she could take back her callous words. She had just trampled over that invisible line which she knew never should have been touched. Insult. Every one of the reporters who worked at the Daily Planet – _each one of them_ – was more than qualified to excel in their jobs. And she had just insulted them all.

"They'd be ashamed to see you right now, Lois." Perry said quietly, and he turned back to his computer.

"Chief, I-"

"I want an outline e-mailed to me by the 3:00 about how you will go about writing your public opinion piece," he said without looking up. "Get to work."

----

Lois didn't know exactly how she would explain why she entered the old storage room, but she knew that she needed the privacy to get her thoughts together. The air inside was cool and stale. It smelled of dust and old, yellowing papers. Used as the newsroom's personal back up file, articles from long before computers were organized neatly in towering cardboard boxes along the walls and in between the shelves of the large storage room. Newer, digital articles were also stored in the room as stacks of floppy disks and spindles CDs. The noise of the newsroom faded as the door closed and small, bright incandescent lights blinked awake above her. Lois found herself slowly beginning to calm her anxiety and guilt.

Her eyes caught sight of a framed front page hanging on the wall beside the door. The headline made her eyes widen, and her heart skipped a beat involuntarily. "_I Spent The Night With Superman_" it read in huge, bold letters with her name printed proudly below the heading. Perry had insisted on the title, saying that the article would go down in history. He had been right. The paper had been another immediate sell out; avid news readers had lined up at newsstands everywhere waiting to get their hands on a copy. Lois' fingers gently traced the picture of Superman through the glass. If the irony of the article hadn't been so bitter she might have laughed herself to tears.

Hastily Lois tore her eyes from the picture and forced the memories of her first flight with Superman away. Deliberately, she focused her gaze to the floor and began reading the labels of the boxes around her. Jimmy had once playfully called all the old files "BS" – Before Superman.

He was right in a way; no one really entered the old storage room anymore. Stories of their time – of humanitarians, of terrorists, of scientists, of presidents – were buried here. The Daily Planet prided itself of being a visionary, always looking ahead to tomorrow. Lois had always believed in that unspoken motto, but in that moment, standing among pages of old stories and yellowing papers, she found herself doubting the credo for the first time in her career. The past should never be buried or… forgotten.

That was it! Lois felt a wash of excitement, and her fingers began to itch for a pencil and a pad of paper. Writer's adrenaline. The article slowly unraveled in her mind, and Lois knew where she needed to take her story. There was nothing like work to take your mind off other matters. Sparing another brief glance at the photo of superman on the wall, Lois reached for the door handle.

"Mmph!"

"Ow!"

At the same time she had tried to exit the storage room, someone had tried to enter. The unlucky person on the outside had been the one to loose the fight to the door, and crashed headlong into Lois. The last thing she saw before they both tumbled to the floor was brown hair and a pair of glasses.

" Clark?" she asked sitting up, coughing slightly in the now dusty air.

"… Lois! Gosh, I'm sorry! I didn't think anyone would be in here. Are you okay?" He quickly helped her off the floor. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him wince slightly as he helped her up.

"I'm fine. Are you okay?" at his affirmative nod, she continued in asking, "Did you just get into the office? What are you doing in here?"

"I got in about fifteen minutes ago, but I need to get going soon. I'm just here to grab my clothes," he said. At her questioning look, he gestured down at two suitcases tucked neatly between two musty boxes in the corner of the room. Ordinary, dark brown, worn in all the usual places, and at least five years out of style, they blended in perfectly with the dusty storeroom. If he hadn't mentioned them, Lois would never have noticed that they were there.

'A lot like their owner, actually,' though Lois idly as Clark bent to retrieve them. Her eyes widened in realization, " Clark, do you mean to tell me that you've only just found a place to live?"

"Uh…"

" Clark! It's been more than a month since you've come back."

"I've been staying in motel just outside of the city," he finally admitted, "the owner has been very generous in letting me stay until the lease of my new apartment started."

"Why didn't you say anything? We could have helped you look for a place. You could even have roomed with someone until your apartment was ready."

"I know, I know," Clark said, fidgeting slightly under her stare. Was it her imagination or was he slightly favoring his right side? "…I guess I just got caught up in the excitement. You know, Superman returning, Lex Luthor and all."

"When you need help, you should ask for it. We're busy, but never too busy to help a colleague. At the very least, you could have mentioned something to me. Friends help each other, Clark."

Surprise flashed through Clark's eyes. Lois knew his surprise wasn't directed at her words, but at the vehemence in her voice as she said them. His face broke into a genuine dimpled smile. "I'll remember that. Thank you, Lois."

Clark eased his suitcases out the narrow doorway, and after a final wave, he headed towards the elevators. Lois' watched his retreating form. There was a small hitch in his step as he walked past the desks of the newsroom. Although it was barely noticeable, she could tell that he _was_ favoring his side.

Her own words from the morning came to her mind unbidden. _With two other assignments, I managed to track down the source of the quake and blackout even before Clark pulled out a pen. _Lois closed her eyes in shame. Readjusting to a city after traveling for so long and so far must have been difficult for Clark. She hadn't known – she hadn't bothered to even ask – how he was fitting in to his new life. He had been invisible like the bags in the newsroom closet, and up until that morning, Lois had been ready to snub him for it.

Clark deserved more than her deprecation – he deserved her respect and friendship. And, Lois vowed to herself, she would be keeping a closer eye on him from now on.

----

The afternoon rolled by fast, and by 2:20, Lois had already submitted her finished draft of what was to be her article. Twelve minutes later, the Chief had called her into his office. For five minutes, they talked, clarified, redefined and reorganized the outline, until Perry nodded in approval.

"It looks promising Lois," he said, "Probably one of your better pieces."

Lois nodded in thanks and tucked her notes back into her note book. "Chief, I wanted to apologize for my behavior this morning. I did not mean to come across like… I was not trying to place myself above the other reporters at the Planet. And whatever I may have said, I do respect your decisions… even if it takes me a while to warm to them."

Perry White, a man who was famous for his boundless enthusiasm, energy and sharp eye, sighed and rested his elbows on the desk in front of him. His shoulders slouched and his countenance was quiet. Lois was startled at the transformation. He looked weathered and exhausted and… old.

"No," he said, "I should be the one apologizing. You were right; the story should be rightfully yours. I just… I'm getting to be an old man, Lois. I'll be damned to admit it, but the truth is, I don't think or act the way I used to. Last week, when you, Richard and Jason were out in the middle of that Mad Man's insane plot, I realized just how old I was, and just how young you three were. If Superman wasn't there… I would have lost all of you. You're family, Lois."

Lois felt her stomach clench painfully at his words.

"When you first proposed looking into the blackouts, I knew the research was going to be dangerous. I wanted to keep you from putting yourself and the family in danger. You can get emotional when you're upset, Lois, and you take too many unnecessary risks. That's why I gave the assignment to Kent. He's got a cool head on his shoulders and his instincts are as almost sharp as yours," Perry sighed deeply, "I won't repeal my decision about his assignment, Lois, but I offer you a compromise. So long as you agree to collaborate with Kent on the blackout story, I'll allow you to work on the assignment."

"Really?" Lois' eyes widened in excited, disbelief. "You'll really let me work on the project?"

Perry nodded and cracked a small smile at her enthusiasm. The solemn atmosphere and the tension of the room dissipated and energy filled the room once again. "Promise me you'll work with Kent on this one. If you go anywhere, he goes too. If you write something, he's the first to read it. And everything vice versa."

Lois could barely contain her smile. "Thank you so much! I won't let you down."

"Whatever," Perry said, a familiar enthusiasm and energy back in his voice, "Now, get out of here, Lane. I've got work to do."

----

Today was Richard's turn to pick Jason up from school.

Lois had almost laughed when the school had called and confirmed that class would resume as usual. She had thought the teacher was simply joking, but when the woman had made it clear she that she was serious, Lois couldn't think of anything to say. The commute to work, already made difficult with the torn streets of downtown Metropolis and giant piles of broken glass and rubble, would be nothing compared to the traffic going towards Jason's school. But Richard had persisted, insisting that the consistency a school schedule provided was important in the life of a child. He was the one who willingly volunteered to wake up two hours early to drive Jason to school everyday since the Incident.

Lois had to admit she was surprised Jason didn't protest once about being forced to wake up 2 hours earlier each day to go to school. When she asked him at breakfast, Jason looked at her with a serious face and said, "But Mommy, school is like Death and Taxes. Daddy told me so."

Genuine laughter rang though the house. Lois could not control herself, and soon Richard and Jason were shaking in laughter until their sides hurt and eyes grew moist. Even now, thinking about it in retrospect, Lois could not help, but smile. They had needed it. After the fear and the worry and the panic of the weekend, they had needed it so badly.

The phone on Lois' desk rang, pulling her attention back to the present. The number displayed was unknown to her. Clearing her throat, she picked up the receiver and bright it to her ear.

"Hello. The Daily Planet, Lois Lane speaking."

" Ms. Lane? I'm so glad I am finally able to reach you," a man's voice came on the line, "My name is Dr. Albert Whiting. I don't think you remember my name, but I was the doctor in charge that day when Superman was admitted to the ER last Friday."

Lois' hand froze and she pressed the phone closer to her ear. "Yes?"

"I – I know this is highly irregular, but I need to contact Superman immediately. You're the only person I know of who he speaks with on a semi-regular basis. Can you please tell me how I can reach him?"

"Dr. Whiting. Why do you need to contact Superman?" Lois's hand tightened around the receiver.

"I'm sorry… I know that this is difficult to accept, but I can't… patient confidentiality forbids me from…" Lois could hear his resigned sigh. "You won't tell me unless I tell you."

"No. I won't."

"Even if his life is in danger?"

"Especially if his life is in danger."

There was a long silence, and Lois waited with bated breath. His next words stopped her cold.

And the world came tumbling down.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own or claim any false ownership to the _Superman_ series. The creative rights belong, of course, to the brilliant Joe Shuster and Jerry Siegel, and the copyright belongs to DC comics. I am merely an obsessed, fanatic, psychotic nut who likes to write and dream.

Author's Note: Hi everyone! Thank you to everyone who took the time to review chapter 1! I love you all. Honestly, I have to say your comments have helped to keep the story alive in my head. The story's starting to get a little dramatic, yes?

FanFiction dot Net doesn't like my computer's formatting (or apparently webpage notations and e-mail notations), so if any of those parts seem a little weird... yeah it's their fault. And if you see any grammar and spelling errors are my entirely my fault, ehehe. As always, I really appreciate your reviews and comments. Please be constructive critics because I'd love to learn from you all. Have fun!

Fiat Lux

Chapter 2: Discoveries

_Chop. Chop. Chop._

The dull thud of a knife resonated quietly from the wooden cutting board and mixed with the warm sounds of home. The kitchen was alive and busy. A rich white sauce simmered gently in a small pan. Salted strings of angel hair pasta slithered silently onto clean white china. Glasses and silverware chimed as they were lifted from cabinets and arranged neatly on the table.

_Chop. Chop. Chop._

Out of the corner of this eye, Richard looked at Lois. She stood quietly next to the island countertop, dicing carrots for the night's salad. Ever since returning home, she had scarcely said a word to Richard or Jason – something which Lois Lane, would only do if something serious was bothering her. He decided to speak up.

"Lois, I think the salad is done. If you cut anymore, that carrot will turn into pulp."" Richard said, smiling slightly. "Want to taste test this sauce instead?"

She didn't look up, or respond. Her long hair hung over her shoulders, covering her face and eyes, and she did not bother to push them away. Another carrot fell victim to Lois' knife.

_Chop. Chop. Chop._

"Lois?" he laid a gentle hand in the hollow between her shoulder blades. Her muscles tensed reflexively before she relaxed slightly into his touch.

"Richard?" she started slightly.

"You were a million miles away," he said, "Where did you go?"

Lois looked down, not really seeing the tiny orange pieces of carrot lying helplessly on the cutting board in front of her. "I'm sorry. Today… I'm just a little tired, Richard."

Richard wrapped his arms around Lois and rested his chin lightly on her head. The smell of his clothes and aftershave filled her senses. It was familiar and calming. Setting her knife down, Lois leaned back, and closing her eyes, she rested against his embrace.

"If something is wrong, I won't know unless you tell me, Lois. I can't help unless you ask." Richard whispered above her.

"Nothing's wrong, Richard," Lois forced a smiled, "Honestly, you worry too much."

"Yeah." Richard's arms dropped from around her. Lois felt a slight chill at their loss. Before she could put words to the feeling, Richard spoke up. "Do you want to wash up really fast? Dinner's almost ready."

Lois nodded, but Richard was turned away from her. Sighing quietly, she turned and started up the stairs.

"_His cells are dying."_

"What did you say?" Lois asked Richard urgently. She swiveled around on heel to face him, almost losing her balance.

Richard turned around and looked at her. "I didn't say anything."

"Oh."

"Lois?"

"Never mind." And she started up the stairs again.

----

People in the academia were usually very easy to crack. Open communications between Universities and a general feeling of trust in the academic world make them one of the worst places to keep secrets. In other words, when it comes time to interview a scholar, the military goes crazy and the reporter gets happy.

There were, however, exceptions. Dr. Whitting was one of them.

"His cells are dying." Dr Whitting had said over the phone.

"Did just you say-"

"Yes. They're dying."

"How do you know?"

"I did a cell culture."

"Oh."

"Now can you tell me how I can reach Superman?"

"Wait, what about the Kryptonite? Could there have been more kryptonite left over in the stab wound?" Lois rushed, "A sliver of it is enough to make him sick. Did you miss any of it?"

"Ms. Lane, I've been a surgeon for longer than the entire span of your life. I've served in the military as a surgeon, and before moving to Metropolis, I was Chief of Medicine at Wayne General during the city-wide depression. I've seen more shrapnel and stab wounds than you can imagine. I. Do. Not. Miss."

"I respect your resume – it's very impressive – and I am not trying to belittle your experience by questioning you. But my question is legitimate, and I am not going to apologize to you for asking it because there is more at stake here than just pride."

"At this point, Ms. Lane, pride is all I have left." But before, Lois could ask what he meant, he continued, mockingly, "What kind of answer would you prefer? The truth or my opinion."

"I would very much like to know your opinion of the truth."

Dr. Whitting paused, and when he spoke next, his voice had changed. The mocking sneer was gone, replaced with a hint of respect. "The truth is that there is a possibility that some fragments of Kryptonite remains in his system. No one cannot guarantee his wound is completely clean, and anyone who claims it is either a fool, a liar or both."

"And?"

"And I don't miss."

Lois let out a quiet laugh. "That would make you a fool, wouldn't it?"

"Yes." Dr. Whitting's voice was distant. "The other doctors wouldn't believe me when I told them Superman's stab wound wasn't healing correctly. They said I was overreaching when I ordered additional tests, and when all of them came back normal, they joked I was being paranoid and foolish.

They were late to the ER room because there were so many other patients in critical condition. They didn't see just how fast his other injuries where mending. Torn muscles were and broken ribs where healing in less than three minutes, and that stab wound took more than two days to completely close up.

I decided to make a culture on my own. I'm not a scientist, but I do know basic lab techniques. By that time, his wound had almost completely closed, and I could only get a small sample of tissue. But I managed to get enough, and I counted his cells at two hour intervals."

Lois spoke up. "His cells are dying."

"Yes. What I found… well… I really don't know what I've found. Whatever it is, I'm pretty sure that it's either killing his cells or making them die at a fairly fast rate."

"I'm glad you told me," Lois said, "I think I'll tell you how to reach Superman, now."

"You mean you weren't going to before?"

"No probably not."

"What? Why?"

"Well, I admit I was pretty worried until I remembered some middle school Biology. Cells die every moment you're alive – it's the same for every living organism. It's not a surprising phenomenon." Lois said. "To be honest, I was beginning to think you were just another cheap hack. If you hadn't elaborated on your story, your number would have been put on the Planet's 'Black and Blocked Phone List.' So…Alright."

"Alright, what?"

"Here's how you can contact Superman."

----

Lois had explained that the best way to get a message to Superman was to put yourself in mortal danger – jumping from a skyscraper usually did the trick. The second best was for her to deliver it in person. Dr. Whitting preferred method two.

"How do you know he'll come when you call for him?" he had asked.

"Because he's Superman, and I am his press agent."

The doctor snorted. They spoke briefly about the important points he wanted her to mention, and Lois scribbled his address, e-mail and phone number onto a yellow stick pad. As she was sticking the slip of paper into her notebook, Dr. Whitting spoke up again.

"He said your name."

"Sorry?" Lois asked distractedly flipping her notebook open.

"Superman. He woke briefly as we were reeling him to the ER, before he fell back unconscious," Dr. Whitting said quietly, "The reason why we allowed you in that to see him in recovery wasn't because you were Lois Lane, his press secretary. It was because he said your name."

"I – I… not sure how to-" Lois stumbled upon her words.

"I just thought you ought to know, is all. Thank you for your time, Ms. Lane. I appreciate your help very much."

With a soft click, the phone conversation ended.

----

Lois didn't head to the roof top of the Planet as she had planned. Richard, Jason, time and reality came crashing back soon after her conversation with the doctor ended. There would be no escapade, no secret rendezvous that night. Every time she looked at her fiancé and son, Lois felt ashamed at the anxiety and worry growing at the pit of her stomach.

Spelling and lying. When it came down it to it, these were the two constants she was awful at. So when they returned home via a silent and awful car ride, both Jason and Richard had to have known something wasn't well. As she and Richard began to prepare dinner, Jason sped past the piano and high-tailed himself upstairs.

As Richard remained downstairs to finish making dinner, Lois trudged up the stairs to wash up and to check on Jason. She found him in his room staring intently out of his window. All of the lights were turned off.

"Aren't you supposed to be doing your homework?" she said, picking her way though the scattered toys in his room. Randomly, she picked up his favorite teddy bear and placed it on his thankfully folded bed.

"But I already finished it."

"Well, that was fast!"

"I did it during recess, and Mrs. Roche helped me with the hard parts. Mommy?" Jason said, looking up at her intensely, "Are you and Daddy angry at each other?"

"No. Why did you think so?"

"Cuz, you're only really quiet when something bad is happening, and Daddy was frowning a lot in the car."

"Daddy and I love each other very much. We're not angry with each other."

"Okay." Jason sounded convinced and he turned back to his window. Lois sat down behind him on the floor and followed his gaze outside. The moon was new and the dark sky was twinkling with tiny, bright stars.

"Why are you looking outside?"

"I'm watching Superman."

"You're watching 'for' Superman," corrected Lois automatically.

"No," Jason, shook his head, "He's right there." Jason pointed somewhere into the inky night sky.

"Honey, there's no one there."

"Oops! I forgot," Jason scrambled sheepishly to his drawer. He brought out his binocular set and handed it to Lois. "You need to look through these to see him. What are they called again, Mommy?"

"Binoculars."

"Binoculars," Jason repeated as he sat down again. Lois stared at him for a moment, and then put the binoculars to her eyes.

"I don't see anything, Jason."

Jason looked at where she was looking and laughed, "Superman's not over there." He reached out and guided Lois' hand slightly past a brightly shining red star, she guessed was Mars. "Do you see him?"

Lois was about to answer, when she saw a shape drift past her field of vision. If the moon had been shining, she would never have seen the dark form. It weaved in and out and darted back and forth in a random, rapid motion. "I think so…" she breathed. What was he doing up there?

"He's moving the rocks," Jason said answering his mother's unasked question. "He's been doing it every night since the big one grew in the ocean. There are a lot left over still. Rocks in space are still called rocks right?"

"If they're in space, they're asteroids, but if they're starting to fall to earth, they're called meteors," Lois said. She looked away from window and stared at Jason.

"When did you stop using your binoculars to see Superman?"

Jason hesitated, "Is it bad?"

"No," Lois said quickly, "No it's not bad."

"A few days ago," Jason said, "I forgot where I put the binoculars, but I really wanted to see him. If I try really hard and squint like this, I can see him. He's a little blurry though. I'm sure you can do it too, if you try hard enough, Mommy. It's easier once you're used to it."

"Yeah," Lois said softly to herself.

She wrapped her arms around Jason's small body and ruffled his hair. They stayed that way until Richard called that dinner was ready.

----

"Jimmy, how do you spell 'asteroid'?" Lois called from her computer.

"A-s-t-e-r-o-i-d!" came the immediate reply.

"Thanks!" Lois finished typing the sentence and hit the send button. She looked up and saw Clark walking up the isle way.

"Morning, Lois. Doesn't your computer have spell check?" he asked as he sat down slowly at his desk.

"I'm typing an e-mail to our science writer, I don't want to sound like an idiot, and there's no spell check on the Planet's e-mail server. Good morning to you too, by the way. You're late," Lois added as an afterthought.

"Unless you were here at 5:30 this morning, I clocked in before you," Clark laughed at her surprised expression. "I wasn't here when you got in because Perry demanded I grab breakfast when the clock hit 8:00. I bought some bagels and cream cheese spread for everyone – they're in the staff room if you're interested."

"I think Perry meant to grab breakfast for yourself, Clark."

Clark blinked, "Huh, really? Oh…"

Lois shook her head and turned back to her e-mails. "Smallville, sometimes I wonder how you've managed to survive this long in the city."

Clark opened his mouth to answer, but he was cut off when Perry came out of his office and yelled. "Kent. Office. Now!"

"Coming!" replied Clark, but it was a full minute before he made any move to stand up.

Lois caught sight of him from the corner of her eye. She decided this time to speak up, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"You don't look fine." Lois said bluntly. "You can barely get out of that chair."

"I guess I wore myself out a little yesterday."

"I guess so. You should try taking it easy a little. Moving into a new place can be tiring. You pulled a muscle trying to lift your furniture without help, didn't you?"

" Well, no… uh… I'm just a little sore, that's all."

Lois started to stand up to offer a hand, "Do you need help?"

"No, I'm okay. Thanks, Lois."

He stood from his chair, and picking up his notebook, he headed down the isle towards Perry's office. Lois, in the mean while, shook her head and turned back to her computer. A new e-mail had been sent to address. She clicked it open and began to read.

Jimmy came up behind her. "Lois?" Jimmy said, "The space guy called back and confirmed your story. Once our science writer picks up the story, we can print it in tomorrow's paper. No other paper has picked up on it yet. So, you've gotta tell me… how on earth did you know that Superman was moving pieces of New Krypton away from earth? The science guy said it's amazing you knew where to look and what to look for."

"I'm sorry, Jimmy, I can't answer you right now."

"Aw, okay. I guess reporting secrets are off limits huh?"

"No, I need to leave work early today."

"Oh okay," Jimmy said, "What time are you going?"

"Now," Lois hastily packed her things into her purse, "Can you tell the Chief for me? Just tell him it's an unavoidable emergency and I'm taking the day off." She turned on heel and all but raced out of the press room.

"Lois! You forgot to turn off your…computer." Jimmy finished lamely. He shrugged and sat down at her desk to shut the machine off. On the screen the e-mail Lois had been reading was still open. Jimmy couldn't resist taking a peek at the window.

To: Lois Lane  
From: Synthia Welling  
Subject: Deceased

Hi Lois,  
Could you forward this to Fred? I lost his e-mail address when my computer crashed this morning. Thanks!

Synthia

Name: Robert Whitting  
Profession: Emergency Surgeon  
Age: 58 years  
Place/Time of Death: Metropolis Emergency 11:48 p.m.  
Cause of Death: Unknown


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Superman!!! The creative rights belong to the brilliant Joe Shuster and Jerry Siegel, and the copyright belongs to DC comics. Please don't sue me because I am an obsessed, fanatic, psychotic nut who likes to write and dream.

Authors' Note: Whew! What a long four months it has been! I'm so excited that this chapter is done – this, I think, is my third official rewrite and my sixth draft. It feels great to throw caution into the wind and just to post the darn thing! Someone mentioned that I accidentally created two names for Whitting. To the amazing Juujinkan who caught my mistake – thank you for reading so carefully! I'll try to be more consistent next time, promise. As for the new character in this chapter, no, I didn't make her up. Although I had to guess what her attitude is like, she actually does exist in the Superman mythos as a superhero (albeit a slightly scary looking one). If you're interested in knowing about her, there's a little blurb about her on wikipedia I recommend you check out. Well enough of this unnecessary background! On with the story!

Fiat Lux 

Chapter 3: Step-by-Step

The exceedingly sterile smell of rubbing alcohol and disinfectant had always made Lois edgy. Walking down the baby blue and white hallways of Metropolis Emergency, she couldn't shake the anxiousness which crept up on her like a shadow. Nothing good ever came from hospital visits and today was no exception. To divert her attentions, she took note of her surroundings. Baggy eyed, exhausted surgical residents dressed in full turquoise scrubs milled around her, consulting with doctors in doorways. Nurses darted in and out, carting charts and guiding patients to rooms to be seen. Receptionists hastily answered and directed the flood of ringing telephones. The movement in the hallway was dizzying.

Metropolis Emergency was not your run-of-the-mill ER. It was also named Metropolis General and was literally the hub of medicine in the city. Partnered with local medical schools and clinics, it served as a working teaching and research facility for doctors, faculty, students and residents. A broad blanket of medical professionals worked, lived and researched there. To say that everyone was busy was a gross understatement. The fact that everyone was distracted worked to Lois' advantage. She found her way easily though the organized chaos without needing to tell a single lie to smooth the path.

Dr. Whitting's research lab was small and well used. Neatly labeled organic chemicals lined the shelves in a slightly haphazard fashion above his lab bench. The typical solid black table tops were lined with worn protective white paper. Micropipetters hung uniformly from an easy-to-reach rack. A multitude of bright pictures of smiling faces and thank-you letters decorated the wall over his desk. Medical journals and papers were stacked flat and high in open drawers. A sleek, silver laptop computer was closed and silent. A slightly scratched, old, wooden frame bordered a picture of a smiling young girl in a yellow summer dress. There was no sign of foul play. No signs of struggle or panic. One couldn't even guess a man had died there the night before. For the first time since leaving the Planet, Lois wondered what exactly she was looking for.

"Superman's cells are in the incubator to your left if those are what you're here for," woman's voice from behind her said.

Lois spun around and found herself facing a severe looking woman leaning casually against the lab bench. She was dressed in a clean white lab coat, and her wavy, sandy hair in a hung at the nape of her neck. Dark plastic-framed glasses rested on the bridge of her nose. Lois was flustered and slightly embarrassed at being caught so off guard, but she quickly buried the feeling.

"Who are you?" asked Lois.

"Does it really matter who I am?" the woman responded blandly.

"My name is Lois Lane. I'm a reporter for the Planet," Lois said obstinately. Lois stepped forward and extended her hand firmly.

The woman looked at Lois' outstretched hand. She let out an exasperated sigh, but reached out and accepted Lois' hand in a stiff handshake. "Karen Faulkner," she said eyeing Lois briefly. "Don't waste your formalities here. They aren't necessary."

"It's a pleasure to meet you too," said Lois dryly.

"Likewise." Karen pushed herself away from the counter top. At Whitting's desk, she began to stack the volumes of medical journals into a neat pile into an open on the floor. The quiet reverence of her motions belied the cynicism in her voice. "He told me the about you."

"Not all bad news, I hope," remarked Lois.

"You were his last resort in trying to contact Superman."

"What did he tell you about Superman?"

"Absolutely nothing – Whitting was a stickler for patient-doctor confidentiality. He contacted me earlier this week only because he had a few questions about kryptonite. He asked me about it over the phone." At Lois' questioning glance, Karen explained, "My research primarily deals with methods for producing viable source of clean, alternative energy. One of my projects dealt with using stones similar to kryptonite as a possible energy source."

"You've _got_ to be kidding," Lois deadpanned.

"I'm absolutely serious," Karen said impassively, "The weak to mild radiation emitted by the stone releases none of the harmful contaminants typically found in fossil fuels. Also the energy released seems very stable – almost self-sustainable. I was in the process of developing ways to enhance the kryptonite's power and to harness it for conventional use."

"For conventional use," repeated Lois slowly, incredulously. "Doesn't the fact that kryptonite kills people bother you?"

"No. As far as anyone knows, only one person on the planet can be hurt by kryptonite, and he isn't even human."

"Well," Lois laughed with a smile that did not reach her eyes. "Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. Even a narrow-minded, ignorant, self-absorbed person like you has the right to belch out half-baked judgments about humanity. So allow me the freedom to do the same. The thing which sets him apart from everyone else is not his genome or his incredible abilities – it's his compassion. Hide behind your scientific theories, enlist the evidence of genetics if you'd like, but Superman is more human than you will ever be."

"Everyone's a critic," Karen retorted. She finished piling the last of the journals into the box and sealed it shut with the sharp snap of clear packaging tape. She stood up, back straight, facing Lois. "Well, I doubt you came all the way here just to insult my research. If you came for the kryptonite, I imagine you would have taken it already. Why have you come here in the first place?"

"I didn't come to insult you. Your ignorant opinions are the things responsible for any amount of condescension you've heard from me."

"My opinions are quite informed. Science articles aren't the only books on my nightstand. In fact, I've just finished an interesting editorial entitled "Why the World Doesn't Need Superman". But the most fascinating part of the story is unraveling right here in front of me. Why, I ask, is the writer of such a document protecting the antagonist of her own creation so adamantly?"

The sharp trill from the beeper in Karen's pocket interrupted the conversation rudely. Lois, glad for the interruption, furtively wiped her moist hands on her skirt as she watched Karen impatiently flip her cell phone open and punch in a nine digit phone number. Why was she so tense? Hospitals, daunting as they may be, never made her as anxious as she felt now. Rollercoaster conversations and mudslinging insults were all a part of her job description, so there was absolutely no way Karen Faulkner could break her poker-face. There was no way.

The incubator Karen had mentioned sat low to the ground, squeezed in between a tall chemical cabinet and desk. If not for the steel lock and handle, and the digital temperature panel, Lois would have mistaken the incubator for a miniature, grey refrigerator. Lois twisted the handle down and opened incubator door. The air inside was the temperature of a hospital sick room – lukewarm and slightly musty. There were only two things in the incubator - a small, metallic black container that sat on the top shelf, and a clear, plastic flask dated and labeled.

"Damn," Karen cursed as she closed her phone with a sharp snap. She caught sight of Lois standing before the open incubator, "You'd better grab a pair of nitrile gloves before you touch anything in there. They're the blue ones to your right."

"Why?"

"The results from the Whitting's autopsy weren't good. The higher-ups are thinking it might be a form of plague. Which one, they're not exactly sure. This room and the entire research wing of Metropolis Hospital is now under a level 4 quarantine. Since Whitting probably touched that box before he died, wearing a glove or two might not be a bad idea when handling that stuff."

"Alright." Lois pulled the blue gloves over her hands. "For an emergency quarantine, you don't seem overly concerned."

"I think they're a bunch of overreacting administrative doctors, if that's what you mean," Karen snorted, "Well it's not like being forced to stay here is going to affect my plans any."

"You're staying for the funeral?"

"Yeah, can you believe they've even asked me to write a eulogy…," Karen trailed off, suddenly realizing what she was saying. Her brow furrowed as she stared hard at Lois.

Lois shrugged. She pulled the plastic flask from the incubator. "It's the least a daughter can do. Staying for their father's funeral, I mean."

"My god, you reporters are scary. How did you figure it out?"

"There's a picture of you on his desk, and I made a lucky guess as to why you were here to clean up his personal items." Lois closed the incubator, carefully twisting the handle and locking the door in place. She held the plastic flask to the light and stared blankly at the clear, orange fluid. "I need your help."

Karen looked at Lois expectantly.

"Do you know the names of a biologist or doctor who I can ask to have this analyzed?"

"A few, but it's not like we can get the sample to them…" Karen said slowly. She looked at Lois and said incredulously, "There's no way you can get out of here with that quarantine in effect. There are video cameras all over the hospital and hospital staff too."

"I'll manage," Lois said sardonically.

"If you are infected with this plague – and the possibility of that is high now that you are here, in the place Whitting died – you could infect thousands of people. People could get sick and once they are ill, they will die because we don't even know what's causing it."

"You said a few minutes ago everything it was just an overreaction," Lois pointed out.

"I'm an engineer, not a doctor. How the hell am I supposed to know if they are really overreacting?" Karen snapped, "Are you ready to face the consequences if people start getting sick when you leave this ward?"

"That's an unreasonable question," Lois said with a frown, "I don't think anyone can ever honestly say they're ready to face that kind of consequence."

"If you can't live up to it-"

"I'm not going to let Superman die," Lois interrupted fiercely, hands clenched tightly around the rough cotton of her jacket. Her hard stare held Karen's eyes unwaveringly. "He's not going to die."

The moment stretched. Finally Karen wilted. "I hope you know what you're us all into," Karen said with a sigh. She reached deep into her pant pocket, pulled out a folded, wrinkled, white piece of paper, and handed it to Lois.

"Lucius Fox?" Lois asked as she briefly skimmed the paper. An address and phone number was written in bright red pen.

"Jack of all trades and master of all of them. Lately he's been delving into weapons development for Wayne Industries, but he's incredible with biological research as well. He doesn't usually do personal requests, but if you ask nicely he might actually help you."

"I-" Lois started, "Thank you."

----

His back was killing him. Clark eased himself down into his hard-backed chair, and the sharp stinging in his side slowly became a dull, throbbing ache. At first, Clark had attributed the pain to an overstrained system – something that would go away with time and rest. But time for rest was scarce and Clark found himself hard pressed to keep up with everything.

Metropolis was slowly rebuilding itself, and heavy pieces of rubble, like the Daily Planet's very own mechanical globe, needed Superman's help to be moved. The huge hole in the ocean floor needed to be patched up. Pieces of New Krypton were falling out of orbit and needed a watchful eye to keep them from falling to earth. All this added to his everyday responsibility of being at work seriously limited his time for rest. Clark took a deep breath, and glanced outside. Bright beams of warm light shone though the newly installed windows of the Daily Planet building. He looked longingly up at the sun.

"Kent, there's a call for you on line 3."

"Huh?" Clark turned from the windows to the woman across the isle who had addressed him. She stared pointedly at the phone on Clark's desk and held up three fingers. "Oh, right," Clark cleared his throat, "Daily Planet. Kent speaking."

A man's voice came on the line. "Mr. Kent, I'm calling to confirm your appointment with Mr. Luthor. Your appointment is scheduled for today at 2:00 p.m. and may be no longer than 1 hour. You are allowed-"

"Uh, excuse me," Clark interrupted, "An appointment with Lex Luthor? I don't think I ever made-"

"You didn't. Not directly anyway."

"I'm sorry – I don't follow."

"Last week, along with multiple major media corporations, the Daily Planet requested an interview with my client," the man said, "Mr. Luthor has decided to say 'Yes' to the Planet's request on the condition that you are the interviewer."

Clark narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Why me?"

"In two hours you can ask him that question yourself," the man continued in a nasal drawl, "As I was saying, you are allowed to bring a tape recorder and writing material with you. No cameras, video recorders, cell phones, or any other such imaging devices are allowed. I have arranged a car to pick you up from the front of the Planet at 1:20 p.m. and to bring you back once your interview is complete. Do you have any questions?"

_A million questions,_ thought Clark. Instead, however, he said, "No. Thank you for calling me Mr.…"

"The pleasure's mine. Good bye." And the man ended the phone conversation ended with a sharp click. Clark looked up at the clock. 12:05. Frowning, he turned to his computer and began typing.

Fifty minutes later, Clark finished compiling a complete list of interview questions. When he entered Perry White's office ten minutes later, the questions were already safely tucked into his notebook and a digital voice recorder, borrowed from the tech office, was already in his pocket. White, as a testament to his experience as editor and reporter, reacted to the news of Clark's unprecedented interview with only a surprised blink and definitive nod. He reviewed Clark's questions, changing and modifying a few of them and then offered one line of advice.

"Stick to the questions and don't get personal."

Clark's ride – a newly-minted, black Rolls-Royce with the iconic symbol of the Lex Luthor Corporation mounted at its front – arrived precisely on time. The prison was located miles away from the Metropolis in a windy, remote location hugging the rocky coastline. Multiple rows of gated electrified fences and barbed wire cut through the tall grass, creating a cruel, sharp divide in the landscape. As he passed slowly through the gates, Clark couldn't keep his eyes from noticing the menacing watch towers, the expressionless guards armed with heavy guns, the security cameras, the flood lights and the bright-orange clothed inmates milling around the black-top staring right back at him. A friendly guard guided Clark though the large hallways of the prison to the small room where Lex Luthor was already seated with his hand-cuffed hands folded in his lap.

"Clark Kent!" he said with a smile, "It's been a long time!"

"Mr. Luthor," Clark replied, inclining his head slightly as a manner of greeting. "Before we get started, I'd like to thank you for consenting to an interview with the Planet."

"Come now, Clark. Don't be so formal. We've known each other long enough to not be strangers. Call me Lex," Lex said cheerfully. He gestured with both hands the empty chair in front of him and watched as Clark sat down. If he noticed the stiffness in Clark's posture, or the guarded look, he didn't acknowledge it. Instead he said, "You've lost weight."

"Five years of travel will do that," Clark answered without thinking as he deftly arranged the digital tape recorder face-up on the desk in front of him. Clark thought back to the food his crystal ship had provided him during the long journey to krypton. A few months eating those tasteless and gritty nutrient bars would turn anyone's appetite at the mention of them. "The same stuff day in and day out really kills the appetite."

Then realizing the door he had opened with his response, Clark looked at Lex expectantly, inwardly cringing. Every time he had mentioned his travels at the Planet, the inevitable questions followed. _How was your trip? Where did you go? _ Clark would always give his best smile. Who wouldn't when someone cared enough to ask about his travels? But the truth was too complicated to explain, and the half answers and incomplete truths he would weave for them were beginning to wear.

"Did you find what you were looking for, Clark?"

Clark blinked, the question catching him off guard. "I…uh…yeah."

"Are you sure about that?"

"I found what I was looking for. But it was just… what I found wasn't exactly what I was expecting to find," Clark surprised himself as he spoke the words. There was more sincerity in them than he expected.

Lex simply nodded and said, "I understand." And Clark believed him. For a moment, he was reminded of the Lex Luthor he had known years ago in Smallville - a dear friend who was really more like a brother. Quickly Clark quenched the warm memories and a bitter taste rose from the pit of his stomach. _Things have changed, people have changed,_ Clark reminded himself harshly, quickly remembering the purpose of the interview. _Don't get personal._

"I have a few questions about recent events concerning New Krypton," Clark spoke the name with a hidden note of revulsion. The continent Lex had grown in the ocean like a backyard science project was a mocking caricature of Krypton. "If you are ready, I'd like to begin."

Lex, sensing the change in the conversation, leaned back in his chair lazily. "Fire away."

The interview started with the crystals. Lex talked about their properties and characteristics, and he described how he had ingeniously invaded and stolen from Superman's icy Fortress. Clark for the most part kept his opinions away from the conversation, but at times his control would be tested. His Fortress of Solitude had been violated. The crystalline voices of his biological father and mother were silenced, and the precious counsel he had rested on for so many years was gone. Lex did not hide the delight in his voice as he described the journey to the frozen expanse, the successful testing of his small basement experiment, and the museum robbery that Superman missed. Only when he finished describing the creation of the New Krypton did Clark switch off the voice recorder and speak directly to Lex.

"You knew people would get hurt," he said, the statement was not quite a question. "You knew people could die."

"Yes," Lex said, his lips tightening into an arrogant smirk, "It was a perfect plan. New land, new possibilities – people would come begging me for a place to live on New Krypton."

"Lois and Jason almost died," Clark continued his words clipped, anger coloring his voice. "You almost killed them."

"Jason? Ah… you must mean the boy – gifted son of Lois Lane and Richard White," Lex murmured. "You needn't be so dramatic, Clark. All this time I had never plotted to kill anyone, well…" Lex narrowed his eyes briefly, "Superman is an exception to that."

"You were just going to _allow_ people to die?"

"I wasn't going to go out of my way to save them, if that's what you mean," Lex responded, irritated. "If they can't handle something as simple as staying alive, then they really are useless."

An abrupt knock on the door interrupted the two men, and the guard who had been standing outside the room instructed Clark to wrap up the interview. Clark nodded in acknowledgement to the guard and the door closed again. The two sat in a tense, oppressive silence.

"Why did you ask me here?" Clark finally asked.

"You wouldn't have come otherwise."

"You've never asked to see me before."

"You never called, you never wrote. I thought maybe you had disappeared off the face of the world. The Clark I knew would never have left his friends in the dark."

"So you called me here to check if I was still alive?" Clark said guardedly.

"Just to talk."

There was another knock, and the guard looked at Clark expectantly. Clark rose to his feet, pausing at the rush of blood to his head. His injured side throbbed painfully as he moved to retrieve his things. Lex's eyes narrowed at the stiffness in Clark's movements, but again he said nothing.

"Thank you again for the interview, Mr. Luthor," Clark said, inclining his head formally.

"Take care of yourself, Clark."

----

When Clark returned to the Daily Planet, many of the people working there were ending their work day and preparing to leave. The sunlight streaming through the windows of the office was now golden yellow and the clouds outside were beginning to turn pink. Clark waded slowly through the desks and dodged the rush of people heading out towards the elevator until he arrived at his desk. Without really looking, he reached for his chair and sat down, almost smothering the small occupant already sitting in it.

"Ah!" Jason White exclaimed, "Mr. Clark you're squishing me!"

Clark jumped out of his chair in surprise, nearly bowling a passing paper boy over in his haste. "Jason! Golly, I'm sorry! I didn't see you there! Are you alright?" Without hesitating, Clark looked the boy over for any oblivious sprain or injury. When he didn't find anything wrong, Clark let out a sigh of relief and leaned heavily on his desk to catch his breath.

Jason grinned, "I'm okay. You're really heavy Mr. Clark!"

"Well, I'm a lot bigger than you are!" Clark said in a slightly breathless voice, "Of course I'm going to be heavy!"

"Are you okay?" Jason asked peering up at Clark hesitantly, "You don't look too good."

"I'm alright," Clark said slowly straightening himself again, "I think you scared a year off of my life!"

Jason looked down and said quietly, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to! Honest. Daddy's talking with Uncle Perry right now, and Mommy's in Gotham City. Everyone seemed busy so I just wanted to sit here and do my math homework."

"It's alright. Really, you just startled me is all," Clark affectionately ruffled Jason's wavy hair. "You are always welcome to sit in my chair." Clark pulled another chair from the desk across from his and sat down gingerly. He turned on his computer and began uploading the interview recording onto the computer. Idly, Clark watched as Jason as he furrowed his brow and counted the digits of his fingers at a particularly challenging math problem. One thing Jason had said bothered him.

"Jason?" Clark asked, "Do you know why your Mom is in Gotham City?"

Jason shook his head, "No, but Daddy was not happy when Uncle Perry told him about it. They've been talking in Uncle Perry's office ever since."

Clark looked up as he spotted Richard walking down the isle to his desk. The forced smile Richard had on his face couldn't hide the tension in his normally relaxed shoulders and the deep lines of frustration that were etched in his brow. When he approached the desk, Jason quietly began to pack up his school things.

"Hey munchkin," Richard said, "Are you ready to head home?" At Jason's nod, Richard picked up the school bag. "Thanks for watching him, Clark."

"Anytime," Clark said and waved goodbye as the two of them quietly exited the newsroom. He turned around to his desk and jumped slightly in surprise when he nearly ran into Perry White. Standing several steps behind Clark, he was quietly nursing a steaming mug of coffee in his hands. The dimming light in the room accented the creases and wrinkles on his hardened face.

"Lois managed to convince me yesterday to let her work on the blackout. My proviso was that she needed to work with you, and she accepted without hesitation," Perry began, "This morning, she left work abruptly after, according to Jimmy, reading an e-mail meant to be forwarded to the obituaries. While you were at your interview, she called from a payphone to inform me that a) she forgot to bring her cell phone b) she was going to miss a few days of work, and c) she was currently heading to Gotham City to research in greater detail the properties of crystals and kryptonite."

Clark shook his head in confusion, "Why Gotham City?"

"That's the question isn't it? Why go that far when the headquarters of S.T.A.R. research labs is in Metropolis?" Perry said in a low voice. He paused to take a long sip of his coffee.

"Was that why Richard was so tense earlier?" Clark asked, "Because Lois told him that she was going away?"

"Lois didn't tell him – I did. Richard thinks it is unreasonable that she be running off anymore. He thinks it's too dangerous, but a headstrong woman like Lois will never allow herself to settle down like that. It's not in her blood." Perry held Clark's eyes in a hard stare, "Go after her."

Clark's eyes widened, "But Chief, don't you think that Richard should-"

"Go after Lois, make sure she is alright, and the _second_ the research is done, I want you to haul her ass back here in one piece." Perry rarely cursed, but when he did, everyone knew that he was deadly serious. "I know what you're thinking, Clark, and I agree with you. Richard and Lois need to work out their differences soon, but Gotham City is not the place to do it."

Clark stared at the floor and sighed. No matter how distant and detached he had tried to remain in Lois's relationship with Richard, somehow he always managed to be pulled back into the center of everything. "Alright," Clark said. "I'll go."

Perry nodded and handed Clark a slim folder of papers, "Here's the address where Lois will be spending the night. I've included driving directions, but it's probably faster to take public transit. Your flight ticket is already reserved, and it leaves tonight at 10:15."

Clark laughed, slightly overwhelmed by how much Perry had prepared ahead of time. "Golly, did you go to my apartment and pack my all of my clothes too?"

"Don't be a smart mouth, Kent," Perry all but snapped. "With all this extra time I'm spending, that article had better be the best piece of writing to ever flow from your brain." Clark smiled and Perry clapped gently him on the shoulder. "Have a safe trip."


End file.
